


paint these words so clean

by kesmejohel



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, No Sex, Pining, brief use of misogynistic language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 17:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6124669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesmejohel/pseuds/kesmejohel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karen and Foggy have a heart-to-heart about their crushes on Matt, while Matt himself just wants to get laid. </p><p>Too bad nothing ever goes his way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	paint these words so clean

**Author's Note:**

> soooo.... i haven't posted anything in a couple of months bc i haven't had the motivation to write about anything, but i kind of just forced myself to sit down and punch this out. 
> 
> this is my first serious attempt at fanfiction, i think??? i'm kinda proud of it. there's still probably gonna be a ton of typos/grammatical errors AND I'M STILL TRYING OUT THE INNER MONOLOGUE THING lmao so don't get your hopes up too much.
> 
> that being said, i hope you enjoy! <3

"I can't _wait_ for this day to be over so I can finally take these damned pants off, _God_ , why do new clothes always have to be so scratchy? I'm itching in places that shouldn't even be able to itch.” Foggy groans and runs his hands through his hair in frustration before burying his face in his arms, crinkling the paperwork under him in the progress. Karen chuckles behind her laptop and across the conference table Matt makes a pained sound in his throat, but when she chances a look at him he’s smiling, the corners of his lips curving upwards  _just so_ —

Karen hides her blush behind a curtain of golden hair even though she knows Matt can’t see it anyway, and busies herself with her laptop. Next to her Foggy peels one eye open to glare at Matt before groaning again, this time letting his forehead hit the table with a dull thunk.

"We're almost done, Foggy. And for the record, I told you to wash those a couple of times to make them softer before you wore them, but do you remember what you said to me?" Matt chides with laughter in his voice. Foggy's shoulders slump and he mumbles something intangible into the tabletop, but the slow grin creeping onto Matt's face shows that he heard him clear as day.

 _His hearing is really extraordinary,_ Karen muses as she watches on in amusement.

"Karen!" She jumps a little in her seat when Foggyabruptly straightens up in his, turning to face her with a lopsided smile while completely ignoring Matt who still has that small, private smirk on his face, maybe even a little smug.

_God, even that’s a good look on him._

Suddenly remembering the two pairs of eyes watching her, or technically just one, Karen pales and curses softly under her breath. This wasn’t the time for— for any of _that_.

”What is it? Something wrong?” Karen clears her throat, back to the present and now wary. Despite what his gentle teddy bear exterior may make you believe at first, Foggy Nelson is anything but predictable.

Out of the corner of her eye she thinks she can see Matt frowning, but before she can turn her head to look Foggy is speaking again.

Matt couldn’t possibly have heard her, right? The tip of Karen’s ears heat at the possibility regardless.

"What? No. No, I was just wondering if you want to come drinking with us later?"

Matt perks up suddenly, straightening up in his chair and raises a inquisitive eyebrow in Foggy's general direction.

"We’re doing what now?"

"Yeah, I mean, we're almost finished with this stupidly big case and all this paperwork is giving me paper cuts _on my paper cuts_ so I figured what the hell, let's get liquored up tonight at Josie's and celebrate the looming end of this bureaucratic nightmare." Matt still looks doubtful though, so Foggy adds, "We deserve it. Come on, Matty, live a little!”

"Um, sure..." Karen squeezes in her own answer before Matt can reply, and grins when Foggy does an excited air-punch and says, ”Yes! Page is in!"

”You in, buddy?" Foggy turns to Matt who shifts in his seat and tugs at his tie, loosening it in a nervous gesture.

Karen’s smile falls at his answer.

"No, I— I have some other plans tonight. Sorry."

"Is it a date?" She blurts out, and the moment the words leave her mouth she wants to take them back.

Matt visibly tenses for a brief moment and Karen fists the hem of her dress under the table, shame and embarrassment threatening to swallow her whole.

"Uh, yeah. Something like that." Matt says with a quirk of lips and runs a hand over his tie.

 _It’s black again,_ Karen notes faintly.

Foggy hops up from his chair with a grin and circles the table to lay his hands on Matt’s shoulders, squeezing and shaking him gently. That little gesture has Matt already smiling and relaxing again.

Karen tucks her hair behind her ear and looks away.

”You sly dog! No, Karen, what he really means is that he's gonna get _laid._ You're blowing us off for a booty call, I can't believe this!" Foggy laughs, delighted, and ruffles Matt’s hair who in turn swats his hands away with a slight scowl.

Foggy holds his hands up in mock-surrender and snorts, "Except, no, yes I can. Classic Murdock."

Matt gives up on fretting with his hair with a big sigh, and Foggy steps closer again with a chuckle to tidy it up for him. The picture they make is oddly domestic, and Karen’s heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze at the sight.

Like this, Matt seems to lean towards Foggy like a blooming flower towards the sun.

”Alright, let’s call it a day, okay? I need to get properly smashed before the sun goes down if I want to wake up hungover tomorrow instead of still drunk.” That makes Matt laugh, and Foggy pats his shoulders one more time before going to tidy up his paperwork.

The abrupt sound of Matt’s laughter almost makes Karen bump against the doorframe on her way out of the conference room, and with ruddy cheeks she scurries away to get her purse and jacket.

And if Matt’s breathy laugh rings in her ears long after she and Foggy part ways with him, well. That’s her business and no one else’s.

 

*

 

”’s not like I haven't thought about it before.” Foggy slurs apropos of nothing and gestures vaguely with his hand, managing to elbow one empty beer bottle off the table, but thankfully Karen is marginally less hammered and her hand shoots out to catch it before it can fall to the floor and shatter into a million pieces. Josie's ire is something neither of them are in a hurry to experience.

"Oops! That was— totally an accident. Swear it with m’ hand on the bible." Foggy hiccups and looks drunkenly apologetic and Karen just sighs fondly, and makes a mental note to make sure this is their last round as she sets the bottle aside and away from Foggy's sharp elbows.

"What are you talking about, Foggy? Thought about what? Starting a support group for overworked lawyers?” Karen teases and watches as Foggy spills a little beer on his button up shirt, giggling at Foggy’s half-hearted curses as he gropes for some napkins to dry the spreading wet spot on his chest, but honestly she has no idea what he's talking about now. Karen’s proud to say that she’s normally pretty good at following her boss' train of thought,but that doesn’t seem to apply when he’s drunk off his ass.

"'m talking about Matt, Karen, who else?" Karen snaps out of her thoughts with a blink and looks at Foggy, who in contrast to his earlier bubbly drunk demeanor seems suddenly— somber? Gloomy? Whatever it is, it looks wrong on his features and Karen is immediately on edge with worry.

”What about Matt, Foggy? Are you okay?” Karen asks, reaching out gently to lay her hand on top of his.

Foggy just sighs and takes another mouthful of his beer and swallows, mulling on something in silence for a while before opening his mouth to speak, only to close it again just as fast.

”Foggy, you’re starting to scare me. What about Matt?” Karen laughs nervously, taking her hand back to tuck both of them under her thighs to keep them from shaking, but her eyes stay sharp as she observes Foggy.

He seems— _fidgety._

”Y’ know… Well— I hit on him when we first met at Columbia.” Foggy wets his lips and his fingers tear at the label on his beer.

Karen just nods, having heard this story before. Still, something about this time seems different, so she listens quietly.

”He had this cute, floppy hair back then and— and I don’t know where ’m going with this.” Foggy sighs, ”It’s just, he looked so shocked that I backpedaled so hard that I almost went back in time and ceased to exist and didn’t bring it up again.” Foggy snorts into his beer when he brings it to his lips, before bursting into peals of laughter.

Karen finds herself grinning and the tension in her shoulders unwounds at the sound of Foggy’s chuckles.

"It’s not that I’m gay or anything— or at least I don't think I am? I like Marci's boobs way too much for that,” Foggy mutters quietly, speaking to himself, ”Maybe 'm just gay for Matt, specifically? Like a teeny tiny bit. Is that— is that even a thing?" He wonders and turns to look at Karen, and Karen can only look on in muted shock as Foggy finally just shrugs and throws the last of his beer back.

”Wow, ’m _so_ drunk right now. Another?” Foggy gestures at her with his now empty beer bottle, and it takes Karen a while to get herself together.

”No, this was our last round.” Karen says firmly, taking the bottle away from him and placing it next to the one he had almost elbowed onto the floor. Her own beer has already gone warm and gross, so she moves that over too and tries not to think about what the hell just happened.

”Wait, did I come out to you just now? About wanting to bump uglies with Matt?”

 _Yeah,_ ** _that_** _just happened,_ Karen thinks, feeling a little faint.

But by now Foggy’s eyes have gone wide as saucers, and when something like belated panic flickers over his face Karen almost catches one of her heels on a crack on the linoleum floor in her haste to get up from her seat and lay her hands on Foggy’s shoulders to reassure him.

” _It’s okay,_ Foggy. You’re pretty drunk right now anyway, so—” She pauses to take a breath, but Foggy looks ready to interject so Karen hurries on, ears already turning red in preparation for what she’s about to say, ”I mean, Matt is… He’s not bad looking? To say the least,” Karen laughs, self-deprecating.

She’s _hopeless_ at this.

”My _point is_ — I’m sure you aren’t the only one who’s gone through an— an identity crisis or something because of this, or Matt. Specifically. _It’s okay._ ” Foggy’s shoulders sag under Karen’s hands with a soft sigh, but Karen's head is still spinning with what she’s basically admitting herself, ears glowing a spectacular red.

”Makes sense. So, it's not just me?" Foggy asks, but his voice is still a little shaky so Karen humssoftly and helps him slip into his suit jacket. Foggy digs into his pockets and leaves a tip on their table before Karen starts steering him towards the exit.

Foggy misses a step and stumbles a little, threatening to send them both tumbling to the floor, so Karen wraps one arm around his waist to support him and gets a mouthful of Foggy’s hair when he turns to salute Josie goodbye who just shakes her head at them both.

”What?” Karen asks after a while, suspicious, because Foggy is gradually leaning his face closer and closer to hers as they make their way out, his brow furrowing in concentration.

Foggy squints, and just scrutinizes Karen more closely.

There’s a rosy flush high on her cheeks that’s steadily spreading over the bridge of her nose, and Foggy is pretty sure it has nothing to do with the alcohol or the wall of chilly evening air that hits them once they make it outside.

It takes a while to click, drunk as he is, but when it does _so many things_  start to make much more sense.

”Oh. _Oh_ , you too? Well, this is an interesting development. Good to know.” Foggy doesn’t say anything more, but judging by the ever darkening blush on Karen’s face, he doesn’t need to.

Foggy slips an arm around Karen’s shoulders and her arm around his back squeezes back shyly. Foggy grins.

He’s really, _really_ drunk.

”’s not a bad idea, you know. But instead of creating a support group for overworked lawyers, how about we start and run one for people who have fallen victim to Matt’s charms? And other… _assets._ ”

Karen chokes on her breath before bursting out in surprised laughter, and feels oddly light despite the odd turn their night has taken. Somewhere in the back of her mind a part of her recognizes it as _happiness._

This wasn’t even remotely how Karen imagined their night would go, and had she been more sober she knows her reaction would have been much different, but for now— for now she’s content to just trust Foggy to keep her secret, like he’s trusting her to keep his, although inadvertently.

”And what— Do we invite half of Hell’s Kitchen to attend the meetings? Where are we even going to rent a space big enough for _that?_ ”

”Why, miss Page!” Foggy’s scandalous gasp is only half-faked, and when they collapse into giggles next to a taxi stop, it’s meant to be.

 

*

 

"Who is this, Matthew?"

Once upon a time the peculiar way Elektra says his name would have made Matt’s cheeks heat in pleasure, her lilting accent translating it to a softer 'Matthieu', but now it just makes him jump in genuine shock from where he had been gripping the lapels of Frank’s worn army jacket in his hands as he got the living daylights kissed out of him in the hallway, both of them having just stumbled into his apartment in semi darkness.

Matt had been so preoccupied with Frank’s hands groping his ass and the way his stubble left trails of fire on his smooth shaven face that _he hadn’t heard the steady heartbeat of an intruder inside his apartment._

Frank drops Matt like a hot coal and has his guns out in less than half a heartbeat at the sight of Elektra lounging on the sofa, unbothered like she isn’t about to get shot full of holes and murdered two ways from Sunday.

Matt can hear how Frank’s heart is frantically trying to beat its way out of his ribcage, and its echo is almost too loud in his ears.

”I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would have any company today. Other than me, of course.” Elektra smirks and quirks an eyebrow in curiosity, roving her eyes over the man standing next to her Matthew.

He’s about the same height as him but broader. Dark brown eyes, military cropped hair, menacing looking. Ruggedly handsome even, if she’s feeling generous.

"Get out. Before I make you." Matt grits his teeth together and a vein in his jaw pulses, his body tensing like a taut string when the implications of Elektra’s visit make themselves clear to him.

They don’t make it a habit of crossing each other’s paths very often, but when they do it's usually only for a couple of reasons; mystical ninja secret society bullshit that Matt wants no part of, or hate-sex.

Matt can hear the creaking of her leather fighting regalia as she shifts, so it’s likely to be the former.

_Thank God._

"You know I would love to have your hands on me but I don’t think your guest would like that.” Elektra smiles sharply at Frank who is being uncharacteristically quiet, which is disturbing enough that it makes the hairs on Matt’s arms stand on end. His body is wound up so tight with palpable hostility that Matt can almost feel it vibrate next to him.

Before he can even think to reach out to— to do what, exactly? Frank is already speaking, voice hard and cold with a warning edge to it that makes Elektra rise slowly to a sitting position from her recline on the couch, transparently telegraphing her movements now that she seems to have finally realized who exactly is in the room with her.

Matt takes petty, perverse pleasure in it.

"I don't know who you are, lady, or how you know choirboy here but you best get moving,” Frank’s voice is hardly above a whisper but it seems to reverberate through out the apartment, and his grip on his guns never once falters as he holds Elektra in his aim.

Matt keeps waiting for the safety to click off, only to belatedly realize why that lack of sound is significant, and it’s like someone has suddenly upended a bucket of ice cold water over his head.

It means it had come off in the chaos the second Frank had spotted Elektra, and Matt _hadn’t noticed._

All at once the thought of him becoming _sloppy_ makes his breath seize in his lungs and stutter against his will as he exhales, and Matt has to bite his tongue hard to keep from shaking apart at the thought of being in any way vulnerable.

_Or weak._

” _The Punisher._ I don’t think we have met before.” Elektra breathes, and she uncurls from her seat to stand, slow as molasses, but Matt cuts in fast before Frank can escalate the situation any further with a reply.

”You’re leaving _._ ” Matt snaps, voice hoarser than usual to cover the shakiness of it, and crosses the distance to grip Elektra’s bicep in one hand and begins to drag her towards the stairs leading to the roof access.

”Not so rough, _darling._ ” Elektra simpers and goes putty in Matthew’s grip, twisting her head to send a meaningful glance at the man still standing rooted in his spot in the hallway, guns drawn.

The _Punisher,_ how delightful.

Matt doesn’t expect it when it comes, but one second he’s hurrying Elektra out of his apartment and the next Frank is at his back, Elektra twisting out of his grip as he’s roughly shoved aside.

Matt crashes sideways against the banister with a grunt, and the impact jars his perpetually bruised ribs hard enough that they throb meanly in protest, before his body goes on autopilot and he catches one of Frank’s arms mid-swing and bends it backwards, effectively bringing him to a halt. But Frank still has Elektra’s long hair wrapped around his free fist, and Elektra’s preferred sai rests poised at Frank’s throat, lightning fast, wicked and sharp.

They’re at a standstill, and for a moment no one dares to breathe.

Elektra is the first to break the silence with a dark chuckle, and Matt fights the impulse to let go of Frank’s arm, but decides at the last minute that his apartment is trashed enough already.

”Now this is a threesome I wouldn’t mind.”

” _Elektra, not now._ ” Matt hisses, and he’s close enough to Frank’s back to feel the guns from earlier tucked back into the waistband of his jeans.

The broad shoulders in front of him go rigid.

”Yeah, _Elektra,_ not now.” Frank snarls from deep in his chest and tightens his grip on the woman’s hair, but it only makes her laugh, and the knife at his throat doesn’t waver an inch. _Psycho bitch._ ”What were you doing here waiting in the dark for Matt to come home, huh? What are you after?” He gives her a vicious shake and Matt twist his other arm harder behind his back.

”Don’t tell me… Is the Punisher really your _lover,_ Matthew?” Matt doesn’t have to see it to know that there’s a slow grin spreading on Elektra’s face, the gleeful tone of her voice and the way Frank’s breathing picks up in anger make it more than clear.

”I was just dropping by to say hello, nothing more _._ ”

They both know that’s a lie, and Frank doesn’t have to know her like Matt does to know that much.

Frank growls in warning and it’s when Matt tastes copper on his tongue from the blood beading up on Frank’s throat as Elektra’s blade breaks the skin that he’s spurred into action, releasing Frank’s arm and slipping between him and Elektra in quick succession to knock the sai out of her hand.

The knife slides along the floor and Matt fights a flinch as the sound grates in his ears, before it comes to a stop when it hits the leg of one of the armchairs in the livingroom area.

Frank voluntarily lets go of Elektra’s hair and they all break apart at the same time, creating space between each other.

The two assess one another for a long time, tense and at the ready, and Matt is prepared to break them apart again before Elektra tuts twice and goes to retrieve her sai, nonchalantly turning her back to Frank whose whole being hums with violence.

Frank makes an aborted motion as if to step in front of Matt when she passes them, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by her.

”So territorial.” She jeers as she picks up her beloved weapon from the floor, inspecting it for any scratches. ”He can take care of himself.”

Matt waits in strained silence until Elektra tucks the weapon away and turns back around, making her way to ascend the stairs to the roof.

Like she wasn’t ready to decapitate a man mere minutes ago.

”I will call you later, yes?” Elektra turns to look at Matt from the top of the stairs and all but ignores Frank’s quietly murderous presence beside him, but he doesn’t deign her with an answer. No matter what he says Elektra will do as she pleases anyway, and it takes all of Matt’s concentration to keep the bubbling fury inside him from spilling over.

Before Elektra closes the door behind herself and slips away into the night like a phantom, she calls out one last time, _always_ having to have the last word,

”Kiss him goodnight for me, won’t you, _Frank?_ ”

And just like that, Matt isn’t in the mood to get laid anymore.

 

*

 

The next day at work Foggy stumbles in half an hour late with his hair still wet from the shower, and Matt absently notices how he and Karen exchange bright grins. Foggy makes a joke about a support group that flies right over Matt’s head, but he chuckles when he senses blood rising to the surface of Karen’s face in what he’s sure must be a spectacular blush.

In retribution Karen speaks in an intentionally loud voice for the rest of the day, not only making Foggy wince in pain every time, massively hungover that he is, but Matt as well. 

”So, Matty. How was your night? Karen and I got _hammered._ ” Foggy asks as he slides up to him coffee in hand and leans against his desk.

Matt’s fingers spasm on the braille display and he tries not to grimace at the reminder of the disaster that was last night. He had ended up kicking Frank out the moment Elektra was no longer in his earshot, and had gone to bed alone.

_Joy._

”It was… It’s complicated.”

” _No way.”_ Foggy gasps, ”Matt Murdock actually has bad sex? Say it ain’t so!” A disbelieving laugh bubbles up from deep in Foggy’s stomach and it’s impossible for Matt to stay mad at him when Foggy almost sloshes coffee all over himself in his mirth.

Foggy yelps when some of it still manages to splash over his fingers, cursing as he switches hands so that he can blow on his burned fingers.

A worried Karen appears at the doorway of Matt’s office, summoned by Foggy’s cries, only to roll her eyes fondly at their antics. Matt cocks his head up and grins in her direction.

Karen smiles back shyly even though it's pointless, but before she can say something stupid like _maybe we could get coffee after work_ — the phone at her desk rings and she has to hurry to answer it.

”Aw, damn it all to Hell. Sorry,” Foggy adds quickly out of reflex, and Matt’s heart speeds up for reasons unknown.

”It’s okay.” Matt murmurs. It’s little things like that that make him love Foggy Nelson. There’s probably no other person alive that he’d go to the ends of the Earth for without being asked, as much as it makes Matt feel guilty to admit it.

”You okay?” He asks but Foggy just waves him away.

”Just peachy. Anyway, I’m really sorry to hear about your night. Better luck next time, right buddy?” Foggy grins at him before leaving to refill his coffee, whistling under his breath.

Matt just nods awkwardly and goes back to his reading.

Yeah, maybe next time.

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh, matt is so gorgeous that everyone and their grandma is after his ass. i love it. this was partly inspired by the new season 2 trailer too! i love elektra?????
> 
> the tile was taken from MNEK's The Rhythm Remix with Little Simz. i'm pop trash. <3


End file.
